


Meet Your Maker

by GemNika



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Gen, Horror, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 05:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16443860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemNika/pseuds/GemNika
Summary: Laxus had no words for the depravity he'd bore witness to. And to think... It all came from Lucy Heartfilia.





	Meet Your Maker

Warm and wholly content was the entirety of my existence until that day. Every waking moment was spent with my siblings, sitting together, loafing for hours and chatting about anything that came to mind. Anything we saw that caught our eye was fair game. The people that passed by us day in and day out, the smiling faces of children, even the couple across the way that constantly bickered where they thought no one could hear them. We saw it all, and it only made us laugh.

The day I was chosen, however, was the day that comforting embrace of my family was ripped away from me forever. Nothing would ever be the same, and I could hear their broken pleas for mercy as I was carried away from the only home I'd ever known. Every heartrending sob they let loose, the sight of my sister reaching out for me only to be roughly thrown back against the others; it tore through me, and made what was to come all the more real. Hands that were worn from years of hard labor threw me down without a care of the pain that was inflicted.

I begged for my life, looking up into eyes that were oblivious to my fear. My words fell on deaf ears, and when I tried to move I found I was frozen. Fear had dug its icy fingers into my breast and held me down, forcing me to watch his every move. He left my line of sight for only a handful of moments, and try as I might, I was tethered to the spot. The breath was stolen from me when I saw what laid in his hands. My vision blurred, darkening as the panic began to truly set in. My terrified cries echoed through the room to no avail.

A woman walked past and smiled, her warm and gentle eyes giving me a small glimmer of hope that maybe I would be set free. I just wanted to return to my family, to feel them holding me close as they always did. A tender kiss was pressed to the salt-and-pepper stubble on his jaw before she left. Not even a glance was spared in my direction. As I laid there, trembling in fear and watching his hand close over the knife, I knew it was time. I was being prepared for my sacrifice. And at the end of it all, I would meet my maker.

I tried to look away when the knife was brought closer and closer, some strange substance having been smeared over the blade before he lowered it to my body. A startled gasp left me once I felt the first bite of cold from that gelatinous matter on the knife. He wasn't cutting me as I'd assumed he would. The small serrations along the blade scraped over me, pulling a frightened whimper from me at the level of depravity I knew this man was about to unleash. Still, I was ignored.

He would glance down occasionally, his gaze meeting mine, yet he kept talking over my whispers of wishing for a swift and painless death.

I was nothing to him. Nothing more than a piece of meat, it seemed.

Again and again, the knife brushed over me; each time adding just a little more pressure than the previous pass. The small reprieve as the knife was taken away was short-lived. Soon something akin to acid was poured in thick rivulets over the small scratches left in the knife's wake, and a scream the likes of which I'd never known possible bubbled up and tore through me. I thrashed violently against the pain, choking on the fumes that filled each shuddering breath I took.

I was helpless. There was nothing I could do to stop the horrors he was inflicting on me. My body ached as tremors began to set in from the pain.

My voice had died out by the time he began the next phase of my torture; although, I wasn't sure if it was from overuse, or something else entirely. A scorching weight settled itself over me, and instead of another agonized cry ripping through me, there was only a rasping breath that couldn't even begin to express the depths of my anguish.

Why had I been chosen? What had made me different than the others? I wouldn't have wished that torture on anyone, especially not my family, but I couldn't help but wonder just what my tormentor had seen in me that had given him cause for such disregard for my life. Droplets of liquid fire rained down on my battered body, blinding me long enough to miss the wooden spear he held in his hand.

A fresh wave of nausea ran through me when it punctured my midsection. The sickening pop as it inevitably gave way under the intense pressure he'd exerted on the weapon made my body bow unnaturally. Every splintered grain tore into me before the tip finally hit the cool surface I had been lying on. I gasped for air, trying to find some reason in my foggy mind to force myself to fight back. I didn't see a point in prolonging my suffering, but my body refused to listen. It had decided to rise to the occasion, to force more air into me even though I just wanted to give up.

I was transferred shortly after that to another cool surface, and carried out of the room that had been the home of my torment. I could hear the muffled cries of my family as I was taken away, only just realizing that they had been forced to watch my suffering. I hadn't heard them over my own screams, and wondered what sort of monster could so easily ignore the suffering of so many.

Lilting, childlike laughter filled the air around me as I was taken outside and into the harsh rays of the sun. They mocked my suffering, ignoring the grotesque sight of my mutilated body in favor of continuing with their pointless games. Frivolity had been a cornerstone of my existence before that day, and in that moment, I grew to despise those that would dare to laugh while I suffered. How could they be so cruel? Didn't they see what was happening to me? Didn't anyone care?

The cerulean sky above me was painted with pale wisps of clouds, and I found myself smiling at the picturesque view I was given while being taken to the altar where I would finally die. It was a small slice of heaven that dulled the pain I was in, just one reprieve from my desperation. Just a clear sky. Just the sun. I was being returned to nature, from where I had originally come—as we all do. At least, that's what I had thought at the time.

I was lowered onto a platform of sorts; although, what it looked like or its composition were insignificant details that I had decided to not waste my dwindling time observing. I hadn't a clue how long I sat there, waiting for my demise. Waiting for this hell I'd endured to finally end. The man left me there, walking out of my line of sight again. The sun beat down on me as time ticked onward, causing a more intense burning to settle over me. The warmth I felt no longer brought me thoughts of joy, love, and hope. It only brought pain. More pain than I could bear.

I would never see my family again. Never have the chance to tease my sisters for their silly banter, or my brothers for arguing amongst themselves over who had told the best joke of the night. There were no more tender hugs that warmed me from within. No whispered words and secretive laughs as we watched others living out their lives around us. It was all gone, and I wouldn't be able to return to them. Even if I was set free, if I somehow managed to escape this fate, I wouldn't have been able to return to my family. I would die along the way, be tossed in a bag and dumped somewhere once I was found. I was nothing but a sacrifice to some unknown being, lying limply under the sun and waiting to be consumed by Death's all-encompassing touch.

Young hands gripped me tightly, innocent fingers digging into my wounds as the acid seeped further into them. I looked into her brilliant blue eyes, and rasped a final plea for mercy as the cherubic face beamed at me before turning up to the man. She wasn't an angel as her visage implied. She was a sick, twisted demon that had crawled from the fetid depths of Tartarus to lay waste to everything in her path. Walls of white descended on the lower half of my body, crushing and rending me in two. Scream after bloodcurdling scream left me, all while watching her eyes as she surveyed her surroundings with a keenness the likes of which no child should possess.

I'd thought the pain wouldn't come any longer after what I had endured before being placed on the altar. I had been sorely mistaken. I'd thought my voice could no longer belt out the discordant wails of my suffering, but I couldn't have been more wrong. The demon in her white dress, with auburn hair and blue eyes that were alight with mischief ignored me, just as the others had done. She laughed, the sound like a tinkling bell, and her grip on me tightened. My body shook as I was dropped to what had once been a cool surface. The sun had warmed it considerably, and that miniscule change in the temperature sickened me.

This girl was Death. Instead of chubby, innocent hands, I was greeted with bony replacements that reached for me again. I was poked and prodded, and shrieked when she laughed as her cold, skeletal fingers gripped my heels. A flick of her wrist was all it took to solidify in my mind that she was clearly more than she appeared. I was ripped in half, still fully conscious, fully aware of every ounce of pain and suffering she forced my quivering body to endure.Viscera leaked onto the altar beneath me, and I watched in horror as she laughed while pulling me further apart. Piece by horrendous piece, my innards were shredded before my eyes, and thrown into the air for the birds that had begun circling overhead.

The woman from before appeared suddenly with a trident and shooed the small demonic torturer away, presumably sending her back to the Underworld where she belonged. I had hoped the woman would be my savior, a delicate incarnation of Poseidon that would shake the earth until the demon child left to avoid her wrath.

I was wrong. I shouldn't have believed that she would want to help me.

Puncture after puncture, I gasped for air as my sight blurred further with each attack from that ghastly three-pronged monstrosity. One final slice into the abused mass that was once my pristine body was the last thing I felt before my final breath left me on a keening cry of misery.

Eventually, the sky came into focus again. My mind had already disconnected from my being. I floated in a strange sort of limbo, seeing and hearing everything around me with no pain. I could see my mutilated body as my soul began to dissipate. I could see the children playing in the distance, their small faces dancing with mirth and excitement. I saw the man and woman, his arms tenderly wrapped about her waist as she leaned into his chest while they stood over me. The grass, green and alive and so perfectly serene. The trees, whispering the soothing lullabies of the wind through their leaves as I was carried far from the place of my demise.

The woman looked down at my corpse with a heavy sigh, and I absently watched my carcass being thrown into the bag I'd known would be my final resting place. It seemed that I had been mistaken in thinking the woman was Poseidon. She may have wielded a trident while finally ending what had become my miserable existence in less than an hour, but as she stared down at the hunks of my remains that could barely be called a body, I realized that I hadn't been that far off. She was my Stygian gondolier, and although I hadn't an obol to give her in return, she seemed to take pity on me as she closed the bag.

My life wasn't long, and it had ended tragically. There were so many things that I had wanted to accomplish, but it just wasn't meant to be. I was ripped from my family, tortured, maimed, and finally tossed aside like a piece of trash when they were tired of toying with me. I couldn't understand the reasoning behind what I had endured, but there was only one thought that carried itself with my soul...

* * *

Laxus stared at the pages before him, knowing full well that his mouth was hanging open and flies could very easily have taken residence in it without him ever noticing. He read the last line of the story again and again, then finally read it out loud… Just to make sure he wasn't seeing shit.  _"That's just the life of a sandwich, I suppose…"_

Surely, he had to have misread it. A deep frown pulled at the corners of his mouth as he skimmed through the pages. Now that he had the punchline, and knew full fucking well that the narrator for Lucy's new story was a goddamn  _sandwich_ , he could only do one thing. His gaze slowly lifted from the pages in front of him to look at the sweet blonde that he'd taken in as his own family. She was nervously chewing on her lower lip while she watched his face for every micro-expression that would tell her what he thought of the piece she'd let him read before sending it out to a newspaper for publishing, but he couldn't help the look of horror that was still etched on his face when he realized just how goddamn  _dark_  the fucking story was. "See this?" Laxus asked slowly, lifting the papers into the air. "This is why I'm always calling you crazy, sis…"

Lucy's shoulders slumped, her eyes shining with the tears that she'd been trying to hold back ever since she saw Laxus' brows pull together and his eyes widening as he read her story. "What, is it that bad?" she asked shakily.

"No!" Laxus said urgently. "That's not it. I  _like_  it, it's just..."

"Just what?" she asked skeptically, her eye narrowing in suspicion as she tried to sniff out the faintest hint of deception. She wanted his honest opinion on the piece, and had told him not to sugar coat his response to spare her feelings.

"You wrote the death of a sandwich..." he said carefully.

"Right...?"

"As though it was alive."

"Exactly."

"And had feelings..."

"Uh-huh?"

"That doesn't scream 'I'm a goddamn psycho' to you?" Laxus asked incredulously.

"No," Lucy answered with a sweet smile, "It screams, 'Stop asking me to make you a goddamn sandwich'..."

He blinked and just fucking stared at her for a minute. Lucy had clearly lost her mind, he was sure of it. "... What?"

"They have feelings too, Laxus," Lucy said softly, her voice full of pain as she looked down at the pages. She scowled and turned her gaze back to the hulking blond. "You should be ashamed of yourself for eating them, you monster."

"How the fuck... You know what?" He paused and called Mira over, whispering his request in her ear. Not a minute later, the smiling barmaid produced a Dragon Slayer sized sandwich on a plate, complete with a toothpick sticking out of the top slice of bread—just like the one in Lucy's story. He grinned and picked up the sandwich, then gave Lucy a pointed look as he took a large bite out of it, moaning in delight as the decadent flavors of Mira's cooking burst across his tongue.

Lucy's face was a mask of shock and horror as she watched Laxus bite into the sandwich, and a strangled sob left her when he began to chew. "HOW COULD YOU?!" she shrieked. "CAN'T YOU HEAR IT SCREAMING?!"

The entirety of the Fairy Tail guild stopped to stare at the pair of mages sitting at the bar, each of them startled when they saw tears streaming down Lucy's face. It wasn't often, if ever, that Laxus would make Lucy cry, so no one could possibly understand just what had happened.

"Sparky!" Gajeel bellowed as he rushed over to Lucy's side. He quickly pulled the sobbing blonde into his arms and glared at the stunned Lightning Slayer. "What the fuck did you do?!" When Lucy clutched herself tightly to his shirt, Gajeel sighed and looked down at her. He carefully brushed her tears away and whispered, "What did he say to ya, Bunny?"

Lucy sniffled and looked imploringly up at the Iron Slayer that had taken the role of a second brother just as seriously as Laxus did. "He's killing the sandwich!" she sobbed, "Gaj, make him stop!"

Gajeel gaped at her. He was totally, completely, one hundred percent fucking confused. He glanced at Laxus just as he was about to take another bite and whispered, "He… huh?"

An agonized scream from the sandwich as Laxus bit into it ripped through the silent guild, drowning out Lucy's crying. He yelped in surprise and promptly dropped the sandwich to the plate that had held it before.

"S-See? It's in pain!" Lucy shouted. She quickly pulled herself from Gajeel's loosened grip and gingerly picked up the partially eaten sandwich as it started begging to be spared. "It's okay," she whispered, running her fingers over the crust, "I'll get you to the infirmary. We'll bandage you up, little sandwich." She jumped off of her barstool and quickly made her way towards the infirmary.

"Dude, spit that shit out," Gajeel said, smacking Laxus on the back when he started to choke.

A hunk of chicken finally dislodged itself from his throat and Laxus looked at Mira in disgust. "What the fuck was in that sandwich?!"

Just as Mira opened her mouth to answer that she hadn't made the sandwich any differently than she always did, the sound of two cackling voices drifted in from the hallway. Not a moment later, Lucy and Bickslow stumbled into the main part of the guild, holding onto each other and toppling to the ground while they each held half of the partially eaten sandwich.

A large shadow suddenly appeared over the two of them, and Lucy looked up to see Laxus towering above them with a scowl set firmly in place. She quickly tried to rein in her laughter and elbowed Bickslow to get his attention.

Bickslow let out a tongue-lolling grin while looking up at Laxus. "Cosplayer's a fucking genius, dude. I didn't think that'd work!" He transferred a soul from one of his totems into the sandwich in his hand, then made it scream. "You shoulda seen your face!"

Lucy mimicked the horror-stricken face Laxus had made, then she and Bickslow promptly descended into another bout of hysterical laughter.

Laxus pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly shook his head. They really got him on this one, so he couldn't even be angry. At least, not at Lucy. "You're so goddamn lucky you're dating my sister, Bix."

As he started to walk away, Lucy looked up and grinned while shouting, "I'm serious about the sandwich thing! Stop asking!" When Laxus turned to look back at her with a smirk, she lifted her hand into the air at the same time as him, their middle fingers extended.

Bickslow chuckled and took a bite of the sandwich in his hand while he and Lucy slowly sat up. When she cuddled into his side, he glanced down at her and said, "Cosplayer, I fucking love you."

"I love you too, Bixy," Lucy whispered with a sweet smile on her face. She sighed happily when he leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

"Bunny! What the actual fuck!" Gajeel bellowed, staring at the pages in his hand in shock. When Lucy sharply turned to look at him, confusion and concern gracing her delicate features, he held out the pages and warily said, "You've got some fuckin' demons in ya, Bunny…"

Bickslow and Lucy began laughing harder than before, and everyone in the Fairy Tail guild could only stare in wonder as the sweet Celestial mage that had always been considered the sanest in the guild… Officially lost her goddamn mind.

_**.The End.** _

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Now, the explanation for what the fuck I was thinking… I had an assignment to write a short story for my Creative Writing class. The beginning of this little fic, the story that Laxus was reading, was what I wrote for the assignment. I know, it's completely off the wall, but I really enjoyed writing it! And it came from a conversation with my mother about taking a different perspective in a scenario to write about.
> 
> Gajeel's reaction to reading Lucy's story, by the way, is exactly what my husband said to me when he read the sandwich story (with the exception of being called 'Bunny' lol). He doesn't trust me to make his sandwiches now…


End file.
